In winter’s chill, beneath the sky so grey,

A father and son find joy in the day.

The park, adorned in a blanket of white,

Becomes their playground, a world of delight.

Laughter echoes as snowballs take flight,

Bursting like stars in the fading light.

A sturdy hand builds a snowman tall,

While smaller hands shape his hat and shawl.

They chase through drifts, their footsteps entwined,

Leaving trails of love that frost cannot blind.

A sled rides down a gentle hill,

The boy’s bright cheer, the father’s thrill.

The trees stand bare, their branches stark,

Yet warmth abounds in this frozen park.

Their breath, like clouds, drifts in the air,

A fleeting reminder of moments rare.

As dusk descends, the world turns still,

Yet their hearts remain aglow, fulfilled.

For in the frost, beneath the pale sun,

A bond is forged—father and son.